


The Mage

by BlueLight333



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Supernatural (TV) Fusion
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-01
Updated: 2019-10-01
Packaged: 2019-12-30 06:26:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18310019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueLight333/pseuds/BlueLight333





	1. Drinks and Witches

This is a story about the greatest man I have ever met....  
  


Incidentally its also about an arrogant prick with no self control and a drinking problem, but I'll get to that.

 

I met him where one typically encounters a self destructive alcoholic, at the pub. Of course, I'm not one to talk, I was on my 7th old fashioned when I saw him enter the joint. He didn't seem like much,early 20's, tall, relatively good looking with sharp features, he moved his head like he was always scanning the room. Not like he was paranoid but more as one would when admiring a panorama.   
  
The panorama in this case being a dingy, run down hole with road signs pinned to the wall, a former Hell's Angel barkeep, and a loaded 12 gauge under the bar. His outfit was indicative of his apparent age, a ratty denim jacket with sleeves coated in patches and insignia I couldn't read, he also sported baggy olive combat pants neatly bloused into brown leather combat boots, his shirt looked like it had seen one too many hundred washes but I could still faintly make out the words "ACDC HIGH VOLTAGE" on the chest in black script.  
  
Having looked the room over a few times he strolled over to the bar and sat down a few bar stools away from me.  
  
"What'd you want?" Asked the barkeep in his usual hostile tone he reserves only for new customers.  
  
"Water, on the rocks." Replied the man in a surprisingly gravelly voice, shifting his sunglasses slightly as he did. I found his choice of eye-wear odd, the place was almost pitch black, save for a few ancient light bulbs. However he chose to remain in the glasses which looked more like blacked out welder's goggles than anything.  
  
The barkeep scoffed and poured him some tap water into the dirtiest glass he could find and ceremoniously dropped a single ice cube into it with his bare hands. The man smiled and picked up the drink, I shook my head, the man chose the wrong bar to order water in at 2 AM.  
  
I looked back at my drink, noticing that my long red hair had found it's way into my glass.  
  
"Shit!" I mumbled as I tried to dry it off.  
  
"Here." Said the barkeep as he handed me a few napkins and another drink, his name was Steven, a large, titan of a man. He had gotten used to my Saturday blackout routine and had become almost friendly with me... Well, as friendly as he knows how to get.  
  
"I really think you should go home miss." Said the man, prompting me to turn my head sharply to the right. This made me dizzy so I braced myself slightly on the bar.  
  
"I'm sorry, who the fuck are you exactly?" I asked in a slurred, irritated tone as I looked him over. He smiled slightly as I said that, taking a swig of his glass, the brown liquid dancing over the ice and lime in his cup.  
  
Wait.... I could have sworn he ordered water...  
  
"Someone who knows you've had about 7 too many." He said as he set his glass down.  
  
Now fueled by whiskey and the nuisance of a stranger telling me to quit drinking (something I incidentally told myself every morning). I stood up and stumbled over to him, dropping myself and my drink next to his seat. He didn't react much but his know-it-all smile remained on his face.  
  
"No seriously, you walk into my favorite bar, order a water like a little bitch and then tell me what to do on my day off? I'm not leaving you alone until I get a name.  
  
He finished his drink and signaled Steven to pour him another.  
  
"Another rum & coke? Lime?" Asked Steven, now seeming more familiar with the man.   
  
"You know it Steve." He replied  as he set the empty glass at the back edge of the bar.  
  
Rum & coke? Steve? Nobody called him Steve, certainly not strangers.  
  
"John." He said not looking at me but rather at the bottle of Sailor Jerry's being poured into a fresh, new glass.  
  
"OK, John, what's your deal?" I asked, having had enough of the switch game, first the water, now he knows Steven like an old friend.  
  
"Deal?" He asked, nodding to the barkeep as he accepted the new drink.  
  
"Yeah, deal, you walk in here, looking like you're fresh from the 60's, order a water that turns brown and grows a lime, now all of a sudden you know Steven? And don't say you don't cos I have NEVER heard anyone call him Steve" I said, my voice becoming less slurred as the gears in my marinated brain began to turn.  
  


This seemed to stun John, his eyebrows raised over his glasses as he finally turned and faced me. He looked me over as though I were a jigsaw puzzle he couldn't quite work out. 

As he did so, Steven stepped out from behind the bar and walked over to me.  
  
"Come on Jane, you've had enough, first you give your hair a bath in your whiskey, now you don't recognize John. I am officially cutting you off." he said in an almost fatherly tone as he put his hand on my shoulder, but as soon as he did John raised his hand simply said.  
  
"It's OK, I got this, go back behind the bar."   
  
Steven paused for a moment, then stiffened up like a soldier at attention and walked back behind the bar and stood there, motionless, eyes fixed on the speed limit sign nailed to the opposite wall.  
  
At this point I didn't need Steven to tell me to leave, I was now terrified sober.  
  
"You remember the water? You still think I'm a new customer?" He asked in a mildly interested tone now facing me entirely, his left elbow resting on the bar, holding his glass.  
  
"Uh... yeah, you um.... You just walked in like 2 minutes ago and ordered a water." I mumbled out

"Well, aren't you something Jane." He said now almost beaming, looking more like a man that had just discovered fire.  
  
"Who are you exactly? And who told you my name?" I sputtered out, unsure if he meant danger yet.  
  
"Well, that's a long-" He began, but was cut off by the sound of Steven collapsing to the ground like a doll with its strings cut.  
  
"Shit, I didn't even finish my drink, right, Jane, get behind the bar, grab the double barrel and stay hidden." He said, standing up, looking almost annoyed as he straightened up his jacket. I didn't see his right leg very well until then but it now sported a beautiful, foot long hunting knife with wood and silver grips, curved like the hood of a vintage car, strapped into a decorative leather holster.   
  
However as much as I admired the craftsmanship I wasn't going to stick around to look it over, I leaped over the bar, grabbed Steven's 12 gauge and  crouched as low as I could, looking out at the bar through a hole rotting the wood at knee level.  
  
I saw John rise and pull out his knife, stretching casually, almost gracefully, like a man fresh from a long nap. As he did, 3 men in crumpled suits walked in. They reminded me almost of mid-level office salesmen.  
  
"Ah, boys, fancy a drink?" Asked John as he lifted his glass drink to his lips and took a swig.  
  
The men said nothing and simply raised their hands in unison to about hip level and flexed their arms. At that point a bright, vivid green flame appeared in each of their palms.  
  
"Well, guess I'm drinking alone again." Said John as he sprung into movement, he threw his glass at the men, the liquid seemingly multiplying in the air, turning into gallons as it flew over and landed on the men. 

As the liquid made contact with them it started sizzling and smoking, causing the 3 to writhe in agony, wailing as though they were in agony, but it didn't last long. The sizzle ceased as quickly as it had begun and the men charged at John, each of them withdrawing a revolver and opening fire. I yelped and took cover, losing my vision but I could hear thumping, slashing, and sporadic gunfire. I could have been down under that bar tap for hours, days, but it only seemed like a fleeting second when the guns fell silent and I head one last loud thud on the floor.

Summoning up some courage I jumped up, pressing the shotgun into my shoulder and aimed it at where John was standing.  
  
What I saw was something out of some slasher film, the men lay, covered head to toe in.... some form of black puss that seemed to be coming out of their wounds, John looked almost unaffected, standing over them with his palm out. Out of each of the men I saw a column of bright green smoke emerge, as it did it seemed to get sucked into John's palm.  
  
I decided not to test my chances with John, I fired both barrels into his back.  
  
It didn't even seem to land a scratch, even his jacket was unaffected, but he did lower his palm and turn to look at me.  
  
"Seriously? Is it just customary to shoot the guy who saved your ass or are you just a special kind of bitch?" He didn't sound enraged, just... peeved.  
  
"SAVE? SAVE!? YOU JUST KILLED 3 MEN! AND STEVE!" I yelled, frantically trying to reload the gun.  
  
"OK first things first, guns down." He said, snapping his fingers. Instantly the shotgun felt like it was made out of lead, causing me to drop it with a loud clang.  
  
"Secondly, these weren't men, just... things in men shaped outfits, and thirdly, Steve is fine, just having a nap, go check his pulse if you must." He said waving me towards the crumpled body of the barkeep like it was no big deal.   
  
I leaped over to Steve, crouching at his side and pressing my fingers into his neck, but before I could even feel for a pulse he began snoring loudly.  
  
"Now, Jane, I imagine you have questions, frankly, I couldn't give less of a fuck if I tried, but you seem useful enough for now so here's the deal, you can run off to the police station, where more man shaped things will likely either convert you or eat you outright. Depending on how peckish they happened to be. Or..." He said as I turned back towards him.  
  
"Or!?" I asked, now in a full panic.  
  
"Or, you grab that box of shells under the bar, re-load and help me save this miserable little town." He said pointing to the rounds he couldn't possibly have seen through the bar.  
  
It seemed crazy to even consider but I figured at the time, despite him terrifying me half to death just by standing across from me, and being somewhat of an asshole he seemed to be the only one not bleeding black and pulling guns out in the middle of a bar.  
  
"Fine... I'll go, but I need to know what the hell is going on." I said grabbing the red shells from their box and stuffing them into my leather jacket pocket.  
  
"Good girl, now, let's go, we'll take my ride." He said, wiping his knife on a filthy bar rag and re-sheathing it. He began walking out, me trailing close behind, shotgun in hand.  
  
The warm spring night air was a pleasant relief from the smell of gunpowder and blood. The cherry blossoms and flowers lining the streets were a welcome sight under the dim streetlights.  
  
"So, um.... John, isn't it kinda suspicious that I'm walking down the street with a shotgun in plain view?" I asked, causing the man to stop in his tracks.  
  
"Oh yeah, shit, almost forgot, here" He said clicking his fingers, I saw the gun shimmer in my hand like it had fallen into water but it still looked like... well, a shotgun.   
  
"It uh... it's still a gun." I said, unimpressed.   
  
"Not to everyone else it ain't, everyone else just sees you carrying a baguette. You're just immune to perception magic for some reason." He said resuming his walk.  
  
"Magic? Like "Yer a wizard Harry" magic?" I asked entirely lost.  
  
"Of course not." Said John with a chuckle, I sighed, a little relieved.  
  
"Wizards are hacks, nothing like "yer a wizard Harry"." He said stopping in front of a car.  
  
"Oh... OK." I said as my brain processed his words. He got into the drivers side of a cherry red 1960 Pontiac Firebird just as I managed to spit out.

"Wait, WHAT!?" I asked getting into the passenger's side, sinking into the welcoming, brown leather interior.  
  
"Wizards are the choir boys of the magic world. All they do is study books and recite some words, wave a stick around, then all of a sudden BOOM, some British dame is making you into the next big thing." He said, sounding almost bitter as he started up the engine with a loud rumbling roar.  
  
  
"So.... What are you then? If you're not a hack." I asked as he began to speed down the deserted road.  
  
"I'm a mage, last one actually. And since we're on the subject, just call me "The Mage" I always hated John." He said not even sparing me a glance as he casually shattered my entire understanding of the world.  
  
"The Mage? Isn't that a little self-inflated? Also it is so NOT your actual name." I said now almost amused at his ego. He chuckled.  
  
"I can turn your fingers into french fries with the snap of my fingers, I think I'm adequately inflated, and to be honest I'm too old to even remember my name." He said as he turned the corner of a back-road leading to the industrial district.   
  
"Pfft, yeah, memory gets a little rusty around 23." I said with a shake of my head. He chuckled a little louder, this time somehow even more condescendingly than the last time.  
  
"I'm closer to 2300 than anything else, mage, remember? Really don't think I can zap myself some immortality before brunch?"  
  
I let that ink in for a second. I started feeling sick, maybe it was the alcohol taking its revenge, maybe it was my entire universe crumbling around me, maybe it was because i sported a loaded shotgun on my lap and riding in a car with someone who just butchered 3 men who shoot flames out of their hands.  
  
"OK... So you're a mage-" I began but was interrupted.   
  
"THE Mage." He said sounding almost insulted.  
  
"OK, THE Mage, you're about 2300 years old, magic is real, only thing you haven't explained is what the hell those things were back there or why you need me riding LITERAL FUCKING SHOTGUN." The panic finally took me as I began to scream and hyperventilate.    
  
He stopped the car.  
  
"Right, first of all, calm down, otherwise you'll vomit on the dash." He said once again clicking his fingers, as soon as he did my stomach stopped churning and I began to breathe normally, however that only served to intensify the fear that was still alive and well in my head.   
  
"Secondly those things are... Well they're what your ancestors called witches, but they got it wrong. A witch is basically a wizard that gets a little too chummy with the black arts. Necromancy, blood magic, yoga, that kind of shit. Let that simmer for a few weeks to a decade then POOF, no more soul, black ooze and no empathy. Just a never-ending lust to kill more magical beings."  He said to me like a father explaining gravity to a newborn.   
  
"And you, for some reason are immune to perception magic, which comes in handy when you need backup facing down a witch nest." He said putting the car in park across from the old abandoned sawmill at the edge of town. It sat next to the mud brown river that ran through the lower parts of the town, it shimmered silver with moonlight, not helping the eerie feeling rising in my gut.   
  
"We're here, come on." He said getting out, I scrambled to leap out and run after him as he walked full stride into the building.   
  
"Whoa whoa whoa! Wait! What the hell am I supposed to do with a shotgun to things that are immune to it? I mean, you were for fucks sake!" I said in a loud, hushed whisper.   
 

He laughed and turned to face me a few feet away from the rusted loading bay doors.  
  
"I'M immune to it, THEY, are not, they can use all the hack blood magic they want but end of the day, their bodies are still just bodies, course they won't make it an easy shot, but its doable, OK?" He said resuming his walk but I grabbed his arm again.   
  
"No, not OK! How's this my problem? I just sell cars! Up until today the most magic thing I've experienced were shrooms in high school!" I whispered again, this time he seemed angry.  
  


"Why do you think the streets were so empty on the way over? Did you happened to see, literally any other living soul out here? This WHOLE TOWN is a massive coven, every single person you know, save Steve back there has been converted. Now, me being the most magical thing in the vicinity they're ready to move, and one they do there's no stopping them, do you want that? because that warpath will be on YOUR hands if you walk away!" He said as loud as he felt safe to, looking me dead in the eye, my own scared expression looking back at me from the lenses of his glasses.   
  
"OK... What do I do?" I asked, feeling ashamed. 

"Just stand there and look pretty" He said as he pounded on the door, the clangs jarring me, making my heart sink to my feet. As I was about to turn and ask him what the hell he was playing at he turned on the spot and vanished with a loud " _CRACK"_    
  
The door lifted open, and I saw... the whole town, all with eyes black as pitch staring at me, I tried to frantically raise the gun to my shoulder but the hand of what used to be Harry, the town butcher grabbed it by the barrel and tore it from my hands.   
  
Mrs. Windsor, my old math teacher grabbed me by the hair and dragged me inside as I screamed, and clawed at her hands, my scalp felt like it was being torn from my skull as she hurled me onto a cold, metal board.  
  
"You shouldn't have come here little girl." Hissed Mrs. Windsor, her black eyes gleaming through her walnut rimmed glasses, a deeply disturbing smile forming on her face.

"What the fuck is going on!? Stop that! Please!' I begged as my next door neighbor tied my hands to the table. I kicked and thrashed beginning to cry, feeling cheated and abandoned, betrayed by The Mage, my friends, family, neighbors, co-worker, everyone I ever knew. Feeling nothing short of pure terror as my boss pulled a large hacksaw from a duffel bag on the ground and began to walk over. Everyone else looked skyward, their hands stretched out to their sides as they began to chant.  
  
But he stopped his 2 feet away, looking like a man stuck in mud.

 _BANG_  
  
The doors and windows suddenly blew outwards like a hurricane assaulted the old tin building.

I saw The Mage, walking in through the hole that used to be the door I was dragged through. In his hands he held his knife, the swirling lines in the steel seemed to shimmer with a dark red light as the blade grew in length, looking more like a saber than a hunting knife as he walked towards me.   
  
Mrs. Windsor shot some green flame at him but he simply raised his hand and reflected it back at her, causing her to catch fire, screaming and writhing on the ground.  
  
"A mage, finally, we can feast." Said Harry as he poised himself, the rest of the crowd followed suit, some summoning green fame, others grabbing weapons.  
  
  


"You want it? Come and get some then!" He shouted in a voice that sounded more like a canon than a man, the noise caused me to flinch, as did the rest of the coven. When I looked back he was hovering mid-air, surrounded by red light, swooping in to hack and slash at members of the crowd, dodging flame and weapons as they flew up at him. 

"Hey! A little help?" He shouted down at me as he barrel rolled over a live chainsaw that my old nanny threw at him.

"I'M TIED TO A TABLE YOU PRICK!" I shouted up at him in a rage, he rolled his eyes and snapped his fingers after pulling his sword out of Harry's chest. As he did my restraints came undone but the distraction cost him, one of the fireballs hit him square in the back, causing him to fly into the opposite wall. He tried to get up but my boss raised his hand and seemed to pin The Mage to the ground.  
  
  


"Nice try Mage, but you came in outnumbered." Said the 4 remaining witches in unison.   
  
"See you'd think so, but..." He trailed off as he looked at me with his usual smug grin. 

While the witches gloated I had managed to grab my shotgun back, as they turned I emptied one barrel into my boss and the other into my old nanny, causing them to crumple to the ground.

I did however realize that there were 4 of them and I only had 2 barrels, the remaining 2 apparently realized that too as they began to run towards me but seemed to stop in agony, collapsing to their knees and then falling flat on their faces. I saw that there were shining, silver blades sticking out of their backs, they looked almost like... feathers.   
  
Behind them stood The Mage, dusting himself off and hobbling towards his dropped sword, as he picked it up it reverted back to a knife. He holstered it and looked at me.

"Well done, good work, always better to work in a team." He said smiling, my blood began to boil.

"Team? TEAM!?" I reloaded the shotgun and fired both barrels at his smug, arrogant head, of course doing nothing except calming me slightly.

"You ABANDONED ME! They were about to hacksaw me to death! All so you could have a grand entrance!?" I screamed at him, he mimed a sock pupped closing its mouth with his left hand, causing my lips to become sealed shut.

"I needed them distracted, otherwise they'd smell my aura coming and ambush me, then I'd be dead and every city in a 200 mile radius of here would be in flames in a matter of days." He said, opening the sock puppets mouth. My mouth now worked normally, his explanation made sense, but I was still pissed.

"You could have warned me!" I screamed. 

"And would you have done it if I did? Willingly walk into a coven?" He asked, he seemed like he already knew the answer. 

"Yes!... No! Shut up OK?" I said, gathering myself slightly.

"So what now?" I asked as he began to dissolve the bodies with a wave of his hand.  
  
"Now? I leave, find more shit trying to blow up this miserable rock and stop it." He said, making my oldest cousin vanish.

"No I meant what happens to ME now?" I asked.

He stopped and looked at me, taking a deep breath, it seems he had to answer that question a lot.

"Two options, I wipe your memory, drop you off at a non-witch operated police station, you move on with your life." He said, did he sound... Sad?"

"Or?" I asked, curious.

"Or.... You could come with me, clearly there's something magical working with you, otherwise you'd think I was your best bud back at the bar, you can handle yourself, and there's a whole lot more evil shit out there." He said, sounding almost hopeful, seemed like he had proposed that many, many times judging by the way he expertly hid his hopeful tone behind a wall of  "I couldn't care less"   
  


I considered for a moment, could I really go back to the way things were? blind to the world as it really is? Not finding out why I'm immune to the magic I shouldn't be immune to?

Taking my pause as a no he lowered his head slightly.

"I get it, it's fine, just let me finish up with the bodies and I'll fix up your memory-" He began but I cut him off.

"I'm in". I said looking right at him.

"You are?" He asked, almost shocked

"Just two conditions, one, you help me find out why I'm immune to your bullshit." I said, reloading my gun.

"Pretty fucking fancy bullshit, saved your ass-" He began again, incredulous but I cut him off again.

"Condition two you leave me for dead like that again, so help me God I will find something that DOES blow your head off, got it?" I said slamming the gun shut.

"Whoa OK, sure thing "boss"" He said sarcastically, raising his palms in mock surrender, but I could tell he was pleased.

I wish I had known what I was signing up for...

 

 


	2. The Necromancer

Weeks had passed since the incident in my hometown.  
  
The Mage and I have been on the move the whole time, he never told me where we were heading except:  
  
"Something ain't right out West." He would say without his usual bravado, his face resembling a bomb sniffer dog who was onto a scent.   
  
Finally, after weeks of relative silence, crappy motels and somehow even worse coffee I had had enough.  
  
"Yenno, I'm on the road with essentially a complete stranger, you want me as backup I want to know at least one thing about you." I said folding my arms and fixing my stare firmly on his... Well, welder's goggles.  
  
"Well, I'm The Mage, I'm an untold and possibly infinite number of years old, I like long walks on the beach, and when people riding shotgun with an annoyed supernatural being don't ask stupid questions." He said, sounding mildly irritated and making a face that usually meant...  
  
I leaned behind me and picked up a gas station sandwich from the second-rate cooler on the back seat and handed it to him after unwrapping the clingfilm. He shot me an annoyed sideways glance and snatched it out of my hands.  
  
"Thankyou" He mumbled quietly, I smirked to myself.  
  
"Sorry, what was that?" I asked smugly, almost chuckling at the fact that an immortal reality bender is prone to getting hangry.   
  
"Thank you." he said with a loud sigh, reclining his seat fully into the bed position.... As we sped through a highway lane change.  
  
"Are you out of your damn mind!?" I screamed grabbing the wheel. He sighed again through a mouthful of sandwich.  
  
"Oh relax princess, here watch this." He said snapping his fingers, suddenly I felt a powerful gust of wind shove me back into my seat, I looked back over and in the bending rays of the setting sun I saw a shimmering, translucent outline of The Mage.  
  
"I hate mayo..." He said quietly, not looking at me. May not seem like much but I've met enough damaged people to know what reaching out can look like.  
  
Another half hour must have passed, the sun almost contacting the horizon when he bolted upright and reclaimed the wheel, yanking the handbrake and executing a textbook, albeit terrifying 180 degree turn. I ran my eyes all over the surrounding area, seeing nothing except wheat fields, a small mountain in the distance and what appeared to be a run down graveyard.  
  
"This is it, this is where it's all coming from." He said, all his smile and charm gone like a summer breeze, replaced with steely command and... Perhaps a drop of fear.  
  
The Mage stepped out and walked towards the trunk, I followed close behind.  
  
"I may be just a lowly mortal or whatever but I need to know what  _it_ is and exactly where you mean it's coming from." I said slamming my hand on the dusty red trunk he was about to open.   
  
"Oh sorry, did I not tell you? I'm sure I did." He said, actually sounding serious.  
  
"No... For 3 weeks you have told me literally NOTHING about our destination or what we're even looking for." I said folding my arms in front of me.  
  
"Oh, hah, that must have been maddening, to be entirely honest I don't keep track of many mortal conversations, too boring." He said mildly amused as he opened the trunk.  
  
"Anyone ever told you you're a twat?" I asked exasperated.  
  
"Oh they never really stop, now, here's the situation." I said handing me a HEAVILY modified AK-103 with an under-barrel 40 mm grenade launcher and a Kevlar vest full of munitions for it.  
  
I really tried to think how I could have gotten myself into a situation where a total stranger would be handing me an AK with... what appeared to be Norse runes carved into every part and inch of it. I checked the magazine, even the bullets had something carved into them, almost.... Like a set of wings.  
  
"Whoa whoa, first of all how do you even know I can use one of these? And also, what in the name of Christ's left nut are all these engravings?" I asked, incredulous, and yet, for some inexplicable reason still strapping on the Kevlar.  
  
I do wonder if it's perhaps some deep rooted childhood need for attention that resulted in me surrounded by strange, ill meaning men.  
  
"Well, I would be pretty disappointed in the US Marine Reserve if they stopped training you in enemy weaponry. Now for the love of God would you LISTEN!?" He asked, not unlike a grade school teacher addressing a class in detention.  
  
I couldn't think of anything to say, how could he have possible known I was in the Marine Reserve? I never told him that. Once again I was stunned into silence.  
  
"For the past few weeks, I've been picking up on... A distress call so to speak from an old friend, an ex really, anyway it's complicated." He said sounding flustered.  
  
OK, now I'm annoyed.  
  
"Wait, you dragged my merry ass across 3 states to rescue your ex!? What sort of shit is that! I thought we were saving the world or some crap!" I said cambering a round with a resounding and piercing  _click,_ genuinely battling myself to resist the urge to unload a magazine into him.  
  
"My dear sweet innocent Jane, you really think I would be wasting yours, and more importantly my time and ability on a HUMAN,  _mortal_ ex? Believe me if this one is in trouble, the whole planet is doomed." He said setting off to the graveyard.  
  
"OK, so who is she? Guardian angel of hair gel? Perhaps the spirit of smoking your shitty pipe in the car that  _someone else is in?"_ I asked sarcastically, he turned to me, all trace of swagger and ego gone.  
  
"We are going to rescue death." He said simply, setting off to the graveyard in a firm, determined pace, leaving me scrambling to catch up.  
  
I had been to many of these, death of my parents, my comrades that enlisted full time, distant relatives, but something about this burial site was off. It seemed as though every trace of life was gone, the grass was dead, yellow at our feet, every tree had no leaves, some began to rot where they stood. I heard no birds, no squirrels, no life of any kind except the soft thuds of our boots on the dry, arid soil.   
  
The sun had really begun to set now, leaving us with barely enough visibility to see more than 4 rows of headstones ahead. I turned on my shoulder lamp, the instant I did The Mage clicked his fingers and seemed to absorb the light into his hand.  
  
"Whatever lives here doesn't want anyone living around... Well." He trailed off in a hushed tone.  
  
"Well!?" I whispered at him as loudly as I felt I could.  
  
"Well, it doesn't want anything to be alive on entry." He said shrugging slightly as he passed a limestone nameplate.  
  
I decided for my own sanity to ask no further questions, I did however click the safety off of my rifle. We walked further, passing everything from small, barely visible stone lumps to full blown statues of angels, obelisks with more names than I can count. It always amazed me that someone's status and connections during life never fail to reflect on their graves. Finally he held up his left hand into a fist, indicating me to stop, something I barely caught in the failing light.  
  
"Look." He said in nothing above a cautious whisper as he pointed at the grave below him.  
  
What little I could see was already too much. The dirt had been cast aside, chunk of rotting flesh lined the freshly... Clawed hole in the dirt and one, indistinguishable clip on black tie. The Mage knelt down, despite the revolting stench I followed suit.  
  
"This is not fucking good, this is old school magic, ancient and forbidden by every magical community, not even witches would dare touch this stuff." He said waving his hand over the grave, a faint swirling red light swirled around his hand.  
  
"Wanna clue in the... Yenno, human?" I asked quietly but still annoyed.  
  
"Necromancy, true necromancy." He said grimly, standing up and resuming his search, the faint red light still glued to his hand. This confused me slightly.  
  
"But... Wait, you told me witches  _do_ practice necromancy?" I asked doubting my own memory.  
  
"Not true necromancy, they simply stuff their own butchered consciousness into a  _recently_ dead corpse. Whoever did this reanimated a man far beyond his expiry date for that sort of vigorous activity by a factor of months. He was dragged back to mortality, kicking and screaming, soul and all. Imagine that, having your mind, your soul crammed into a rotting brain and decaying body... This is a affront to the very laws of the universe." He said sounding genuinely disgusted.  
  
Even at the time, knowing nothing about what this even looked like, I was shook to my core by the very concept, trapped in a body unable to repair itself, unable to think worth a damn. That thought bounced around my head, leaving my mind absent on the task at hand, blindly following the red of The Mage's hand.  
  
But my thoughts ceased the minute he extinguished his hand and knelt down. We took cover behind a mausoleum, before me I saw 4 green flame torches arranged in a box formation, inside of which sat a woman.  
  
A... surprisingly normal woman, she was crumpled on the ground, struggling to rise, her elegant black dress was torn in multiple places, her back hair showing traces of recently being neatly curled was no more than a torn and mangled mess, matted with what appeared to be...black blood. I tried to distinguish her features but could see nothing in the dim green light.  
  
"That's her, Jane, meet death." He said whispering.   
  
I had come face to face with her before, metaphorically anyhow, seeing her in the flesh was too unnatural to even process.  
  
"Right, here's the plan, I'm gonna get her out of there, anything comes for my ass, light it up." He said starting to stand but I grabbed his arm.  
  
"With what? I love me an AK but i don't think its zombie grade!" I said in a very hushed tone. He sighed, like a parent teaching their child Santa isn't real.  
  
"See those runes? and in the bullets too? Those will fell anything, save a tier 1-2 immortal. You will be fine, OK?" He said flashing me a smile.  
  
And with that he swaggered into a painfully apparent trap.  
  
He walked over, standing tall over the torches, the woman sat up and began screaming at him but every time she did it seemed like nothing came out. The Mage reached out at the woman but recoiled his hand as it was bounced off by a newly appeared venom green cube that held her in place.  
  
"Ah, I was wondering when you would show up, the boys and I were getting bored." Said a voice emerging out of the pitch black. The figure that exited seemed to be made entirely of black, swirling cloud, it was none too impressive, standing easily a foot shorter than The Mage, hunched over behind its hood.  
  
The Mage reached for his knife but the minute he did the figure shot up its right hand out emerged a rope made entirely of a material that seemed to somehow.... Glow darkness and wrapped itself around his neck.  
  
This immediately caused The Mage to collapse to his knees, grabbing at the rope, his very being seemed to shimmer that dark red light but it seemed to be going only towards the rope, like a macabre charging cable.  
  
Instinctively I fired off a few rounds at the figure, they seemed to pass right through him.   
  
"I haven't the time for you,  _ **RISHZEN!"**_ He bellowed, I felt the ground ruble beneath me, I looked down and saw the graves begin to crack open, hands at varying rates of decomposition reached towards towards me, instinctively i climbed in top of the mausoleum and began firing at whatever emerged, in the faint green light all I could see the horrifying, mangled messes of what used to be people, reaching, snarling, spitting at me. They seemed to be driven only by the never ending urge to consume.  
  
I remembered my training, keeping a tight perimeter, switching to semi-auto to conserve ammunition, when the bullets made contact the zombies would flash a brilliant red and collapse where they stood.  
  
I looked out of the corner of my eye and saw The Mage and Death wrapped in the strange black rope, both being drained. I looked back at my perimeter and saw I was losing my ground, they were 2 feet away from the ledge of the roof.   
  
Just as I began to embrace the concept of my inevitable death I heard a voice in my head.  
  
_Get down!_  
  
I followed instruction and fell on my stomach, I saw the mage reach towards his face and remove his sunglasses. Instantly a brilliant golden light exploded out from him, challenging the sun itself. The creatures instantly collapsed  to the ground and I saw the hooded figure fly back into an oak tree behind him with such force it snapped in half.  
  
I saw The Mage rise, slowly, determined, he looked almost the same, spare the fact that his eyes were brilliant golden orbs and from his back sprouted a set of silver wings, half of them folding out from nothing and the other half swinging out from under that and clicking in place. He stood at full height now, his body rippling in a circuit-like pattern with the brilliant golden light, around him sprouted green grass, flowers, small mushrooms came and went within a 10 meter radius of his feet.  
  
The hooded figure rose and tried once more to throw his rope around his neck, The Mage reached up and caught a large, golden shield out of thin air, blocking the attack, causing him to recoil.  
  
"You... No! You're meant to be a story!" Screamed the figure in a shrill tone.  
  
"I think you will find that the only story here earthworm, is your very existence." Replied The Mage in a calm, yet powerful voice, it seemed to echo off the sky itself, he moved forward towards the cloaked figure.  
  
The man backed up, throwing hasty green fireballs at him which The Mage deflected back with a flick of his shield.  
  
He drew his knife.  
  
The Mage rested the flat of the blade on his shield no more than a meter away from the figure. He looked ready to strike.  
  
"Hey! That's enough!" Screamed the woman, standing up herself and dusting off what was left of her dress.  
  
Strangely she seemed unaffected by what happened to her, but her tone sounded severe.  
  
"This creature violated the laws of the universe Anubis, you of all beings should know why this must be done." Said The Mage, his voice still sounding like the world most powerful PA system.  
  
"Yes, but wiping away his very existence is adding insult to injury, you know as well as I do that sort of punishment is not meant for mortals that stray away from the light, no matter how far. You remember what happened the last time you did this." She said now gently resting her hand on his shoulder.  
  
The Mage wavered in his resolve lowering his shield.  
  
I saw the golden light start to fade as cracks seemed to form on his body, his very being seemed to be splintering, revealing the golden light more and more. Finally he simply collapsed as the last of his wings folded in on themselves.  
  
Death waved her hand at the hooded figure, causing him to be thrown into a nearby grave and the dirty seal itself on top of him.  
  
I ran over to him, showing Death itself out of the way.  
  
He seemed to be... In a coma, his eyes were closed but I could still see faint traces of red light pulsing under the eyelids.  
  
"Move away girl." Said Death as she summoned his sunglasses and put them on.  
  
"Sorry right, Jane by the-" I began but she cut me off.  
  
"Jane Oswald, named that by your orphanage, you've been... His little friend the past few weeks, am I hitting the mark or did I miss some unimportant detail of your unimportant life?" She said with an annoyed tone, waving her hand over him, The Mage's body seemed to pulse a faint green light wherever her hand was.  
  
"Do I just have some kind of soul Twitter account only immortals can see or-?" I said to myself only to be cut off again. This time she literally grabbed me and spun me to face her.  
  
"Listen, if we don't stabilize him he will go off, he burned up most of his defenses to release his true form, those defenses didn't just keep things out, they held them in place. I'm not strong enough to do it right now, we have to get him somewhere where he can be taken care of. Understand?" She said, frantically lifting up his body like it was nothing despite the size difference between them.  
  
"What like he'll go nuclear?" I asked starting to let the fear creep into my voice. She scoffed.  
  
"Like you'll wish he did, last time he did this... Nevermind, where's that shit heap he drives around?" She asked looking around I began to answer but once again I was cut off.  
  
"Nevermind, I can smell the cherrysweet tobacco a mile off, this way." She began leading me towards the car  
  
"Wait! Where the hell are we even taking him!?" I asked, starting to seriously doubt how much I can trust Death.  
  
"His mother's house." She said nonchalantly.   
  
"Wait... He has a mother? Like he was... Actually born?" I asked, it may have seemed silly but i never really thought mages were... born.  
  
"No you ingrate, he has no birth mother, I mean the woman that raised him." She replied, again, striking me with her ability to carry him like he weighed nothing.   
  
If being candid, I won't lie it was... quite the sight to behold.  
  
Dear god, only I could have the hots for Death.  
  
"Who would that be?" I managed to choke out.  
  
"Ever hear of Baba Yaga?" She asked.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


 

 

 

 

 

 


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